


For What it's Worth

by Shadeoflight



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst and Feels, Enemies, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fight Sex, Fights, Hand Jobs, Hurt, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, hints of past abuse and rape, set after s02e20: Investigations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadeoflight/pseuds/Shadeoflight
Summary: Chakotay goes to Tom's quarters after the events of 'Investigations' and Tom's return to Voyager. Chakotay is still angry and feeling betrayed because of the way Tom treated him for weeks, confronting him with his accusations and feelings. Tom's reaction to their fight is not what Chakotay has anticipated though, his challenge to let the Maquis still hidden deep inside him out and have his way with Tom leading to a night Chakotay will never forget again...
Relationships: Chakotay/Tom Paris
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	For What it's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of how Tom and Chakotay could have released the tension between them after Tom's unbearable behavior towards him due to his undercover mission didn't leave me alone again. I'm still new to writing this ship and exploring their dynamic, and there might be a sequel to this story if anybody would be interested in it. <33

There was still anger humming in every cell of his body, anger that was born out of deep hurt, the hurt of a betrayal that had cut right through his core, through the very essence of his heart and his soul.

Chakotay's finger hovered over the door chime to Paris' quarters for a moment as he listened to the tiny voice in his head that told him to turn around and come back when he was less angry, less hurt and less feeling betrayed, reasonable enough to take Tom Paris' actions as what they actually were: the carefully and very skillfully carried out orders his captain had given him – orders, which _their_ captain had given him without informing Chakotay as the lieutenant's direct superior. It might bother him more than he wanted to admit, but none of this was actually Tom's fault.

Paris had just done what each faithful Starfleet officer would have done in his place, and being angry at him that he'd proved his loyalty and devotion to Starfleet, Voyager and the well-fare of her crew was actually ridiculous. The lieutenant had even apologized to each crew-member in Neelix' show after he'd been back on board again today – and to Commander Chakotay actually in special - but for whatever his apology had been worth in the end – Tom's laughter following his apologetic words right away had only served to fuel Chakotay's anger and sense of betrayal and made his apology and explanation sound like another of Tom Paris' lies to him.

The Commander silenced the small voice in his head with an angry sound and pressed the button with more force than necessary, his anger bubbling in his stomach while he waited for the lieutenant to answer to his call.

It couldn't be more than three or four seconds that he had to wait, but they felt like three hours to him, and Chakotay was about to press the button again and demand entrance when Lt. Paris' muffled voice sounded through the closed door.

“Come in!”

The door glided to the side with a quiet whoosh, and Chakotay entered the quarters without really knowing what he was actually doing here, or what he wanted to achieve with his late visit. He stopped abruptly when he found himself standing face to face with the person who was responsible for the anger that was burning like hot acid in his stomach, filling his throat and his mouth with a bitter taste.

“Commander.”

He watched surprise flickering over Tom Paris' noble features for the blink of an eye, surprise and something else, something that was gone before he'd been able to detect it. Then, the younger man schooled his expression back into the mask of witty jauntiness Chakotay had come to know so well - and hate so much - over the past couple of years, this time mixed with polite curiosity about the late and unexpected visit.

“Lieutenant.”

They stared at each other, and Chakotay was suddenly at a loss for words. He'd thought about what he wanted to say to Tom Paris so carefully, planned his little speech in all details, but as he now looked into those sky-blue eyes his mind was completely blank, all words wiped away from it.

The lieutenant's expression changed from nonchalant to vaguely concerned and then to annoyed when he kept just staring at him as though he'd really see him for the very first time. “Is there anything I can do for you, Commander?” Tom eventually broke the heavy and loaded silence between them when it became too much for him to bear, folding his arms across his chest in an equally defiant and self-protective manner. It was only then that Chakotay realized that Tom's hair was damp, as he'd apparently taken a shower right before his Commander had rang his door bell to require entrance to his quarters, and he must have hurried to dress with his uniform again to show an appropriate appearance to his unknown visitor. His jacket was still open and a little bit crumpled because of the hasty dressing, and it annoyed Chakotay again, although he of course knew that he had no right to feel this way.

Tom Paris was off duty after his interlude on the Kazon ship, and it was obvious that he'd prepared to call it a night and go to bed early tonight. Chakotay was the intruder here, keeping the blond officer from catching up with some sleep after his dangerous mission, and Tom was the one having every right to feel annoyed about the disturbance, not Chakotay because of Paris' disheveled looks. If the lieutenant decided to walk around naked in his own private quarters, then it was his perfect right to do that.

The thought of a naked Tom Paris made Chakotay's face flash with a sudden heatwave, and the younger man narrowed his eyes.

“Commander? What is it that you came here for that late?” he repeated his question from a minute ago, and Chakotay blinked to get the pictures out of his dazed mind he didn't want to have there. Or maybe he wanted them there, but he was definitely not ready to admit that and face the consequences of the forbidden path his far too colorful imagination was following as he stood here in Paris' quarters, finally alone with him and standing far too close, so close that he could smell the shampoo and the aftershave Tom preferred to use.

“I just wanted to talk to you, To... Lieutenant. Alone.” he blurted out, and Tom's eyes narrowed further, a frown creasing his normally smooth forehead. The mask of uncaring nonchalance had slipped from his face, probably due to his exhaustion, and Chakotay drew grim satisfaction out of the fact that he got to see parts and bits of the real Tom Paris behind the facade he was usually showing to everyone.

“You want me to apologize to you again? I already did – in front of the entire ship!” Paris asked, his voice sounding more tired than annoyed.

“Did you actually mean what you said in front of the camera, Lieutenant? Because it sure as hell didn't look like that the way you laughed right after your 'honest' apology!” Chakotay accused him, knowing that he was unfair, but he really thought that he deserved some answers and some honesty after what Tom had said and done over the past few weeks – whether he'd just followed orders or not, Chakotay didn't give a damn about that at all.

“I see. So you want a private apology as well? Will you finally leave me alone and chase after somebody else to accuse them of whatsoever if you'll get one, Commander?” Tom drew his arms closer around himself, his jaw tight and his chin lifted up.

“Will it be a honest one this time, Tom?” He hadn't wanted to use Paris' first name, but it slipped from his tongue before he could stop it.

Paris sighed. His jaw worked, and he looked as if he wanted to rub his eyes in utter fatigue. “I _was_ honest when I apologized to you in front of the camera and with the entire crew as an audience to witness what I was telling you. What more do you want from me, Commander?” He sighed again, his blue eyes several shades darker when he added:

“What did you expect from me... Chakotay? What do you expect from me now? That I'll go down on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? Hell, I was simply doing my job and following the orders I'd been given! Do you really want to hold that against me?”

Chakotay swallowed. “No, of course I don't expect you to 'beg for my forgiveness', how you've put it. I just want to know why you didn't trust me enough?” he tried to explain his motivations for this talk, trying not to flinch at how lame everything he said sounded.

Tom looked incredulous as he gazed at him with another deep frown between his brows. “I do trust you, Commander. This was never about me not trusting you. The orders the Captain and Lt. Tuvok gave me made very clear that you were not to know about my undercover mission. Do you really think that I should have disobeyed them to prove my trust in you this way and betray _their_ trust in me in the process?”

“You could still have given me a sign,” Chakotay objected, but Tom shook his head, and there was barely hidden fury shining in his fascinating blue eyes now.

“No, I could have _not_ given you a sign, and you know that damn well, _Commander!_ Besides, I do believe that this is a conversation you should have with Captain Janeway and Lt. Tuvok rather than with me – as it's obviously _their_ trust in _you_ that you should question, not mine! But it's always the same with you! You're always just happy and quite eager to think the worst of me and question my intentions and behavior in a way that it makes me look like a traitor and spoiled brat without any honorable intentions or virtues! You're only content when you can blame me of being the most selfish bastard of the entire universe, isn't that so, Chakotay?” the younger man went silent, his chest heaving with his raged breaths.

“That isn't true!” Chakotay defended himself angrily, not at all liking the direction where this conversation was heading.

“Is it not?” Tom's eyes were spitting angry blue fire now. “Really, Commander? What kind of problem do you have with me, then? Because to speak _honestly_ with you, I'm tired of the shit you're always giving me, no matter what I'm doing! Is it because my father is the well-known – or should I better say _famous –_ Admiral Owen Paris? Someone who'd never care about the people who'd been suffering under the Cardassians' bloody rulership for far too long - just because Starfleet was all too happy to end the war and give those snakes whatever they demanded to get in exchange for the peace treaty? It might come as a surprise to you, Commander, but I'm not like my 'admirable' father, not at all!”

“That's something I'd noticed right from the start,” Chakotay threw in, but Paris only snorted.

“Had you? So what did you think that I am? Just a spoiled young man without any principles who joined the Maquis because he only wanted to rebel against his father? Taking nothing seriously, not even the prospect of killing other living beings because of his decision to become a Maquis himself? Oh, pardon me, I forgot: I'd already killed three people, so some more actually didn't matter any longer after that, right?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Chakotay felt himself responding to it and losing his own temper quickly.

“Is there anything you're actually taking seriously, Lieutenant? Because it doesn't look like that most of the time.” Chakotay regretted his words the moment they came out of his mouth, but he couldn't take them back anymore, and he was too angry and hurt to really want to take them back anyway.

“If you're still thinking that after all what happened since we've become stuck here in the Delta Quadrant, then nothing I could say will ever make you change your bad opinion about me, so why wasting my breath on the attempt to convince you otherwise?” Tom's voice had an undertone of bitter resignation, and Chakotay clenched his fists at his sides to keep himself from reaching out and touching the younger one. They were still standing on the same spots, the distance between them of about two meters like an endless gap that could never be crossed and never closed again.

“I should perhaps feel flattered that you're so unyielding in the heartfelt dislike and contempt you're harboring for me with such stubbornness and persistence, Chakotay. Especially considering that you seem to despise me even more than you should hate Lt. Tuvok and Seska for what they did to you.”

Chakotay gritted his teeth. He really didn't want to be reminded of Seska and what she'd done to him.

“Lt. Tuvok was merely doing his job.” he said, drawing another snort from the blond lieutenant.

“I was merely doing my job as well. Where's the difference?” Paris wanted to know, and Chakotay was honest enough to admit that there wasn't any difference in what Tuvok and Paris had both done as they'd followed their orders, no difference except for the way their actions made him feel, that is.

“You seemed to enjoy your disobedience and insulting behavior towards me a little bit too much, Lieutenant. When I approached you in the mess hall for example and you were so rude and hostile, that was truly uncalled for!”

“So you're angry with me because you felt insulted and rejected?” Tom's voice was rising at the end of his question, “the way I behaved – especially towards you - was part of my orders and my job, for heaven's sake! I had to do that to make people think that I didn't want to be a real part of the crew anymore. It was pretty hard for me, I can assure you that! Hurting the friends I'd finally made and making them think that I don't care about them anymore was really not an easy thing to do, believe me! Their understandable reactions hurt me too!”

Chakotay didn't want to hear that, he didn't want to think about how Tom must have felt over the last weeks. “You hit me on the bridge – right in front of every senior officer, Paris!” was all he said, his eyes full of reproach and anger.

Several emotions flickered over Tom's face at the memory, his expression raw and regretful for a moment. “As I said – it was part of my job. It was necessary to make it believable that I wanted to leave Voyager after I'd been put in the brig and confined to my quarters afterwards,” he said quietly, all annoyance gone from his voice. “I didn't enjoy it, Chakotay, not the least.”

“That might be true, but tell me, how am I supposed to ever trust you again after all that happened?”

“You were willing to still trust Seska and find excuses for her behavior, even when it was perfectly clear that she was a traitor, Commander! She pretended to be a Bajoran and even changed her whole appearance to deceive you! She spied on you and lied to you – nothing of what she ever told you was merely close to the truth. She betrayed you when she was under your command in the Maquis, and she continued to betray you – all of us – on board Voyager. She sold us out to the Kazon on every possible occasion, hell she even took your DNA without your consent to become pregnant with your child! She's a Cardassian, belonging to the race you've always hated with all of your heart, and she used you in the worst way possible. Yet you seem to loathe me more than you should be loathing her! It's hard for me to understand that, Chakotay!”

Tom gave up his posture at last, carding his fingers through his damp hair and messing it all up in a desperate gesture.

Chakotay knew that Tom was right, and he regretted that he'd come to him because now all his inner demons were crawling out of their hiding places, forcing him to face a truth he wasn't ready for.

“You're right with everything you said about her, Paris. She's Cardassian, so it's in her nature to lie, betray and harm others to achieve what she wants to get. You are not Cardassian, I would have expected more from you.”

“You're making it quite easy for yourself, aren't you?”

“You sold us to Starfleet, after all – to those who'd let you down according to your own words!” Chakotay accused him, “you let yourself get caught right on your first mission and then sold us to the Starfleet Command you'd pretended to hate so much. For what? A few months in one of their cozy prisons?”

Tom's face hardened at that. “You don't know anything about me, Chakotay, nor have you ever tried to really get to know me. A few months in a 'cozy' Starfleet prison? Have you ever been there? Do you actually know what happens to the son of an admiral who has fallen from grace when he's trapped in one of those 'cozy' prisons together with inmates who have never met him beforehand, but think that they have more reasons to hate him than they have not to hate him? How they''ll act on their hate and prejudices to take revenge and enjoy it? No, I don't think that you even begin to have a clue. And even though you won't believe me anyway, as you never believe any word of what I'm telling you, but I didn't sell you to Starfleet – nor did I let myself be caught like you've put it. That I got caught on that mission was Seska's doing as well. But she's Cardassian, it's in her nature, so she's excused, right?”

Something in his voice proved to Chakotay that Tom was telling the truth, but he was too busied with fighting against those demons he'd set loose without being ready for the consequences to backpedal and admit his severe mistake of judging Tom wrong.

“It's easy for you to say that. Seska is not here to explain herself after all."

“Yes, of course. You'd still rather believe her than me. Why that? Because she warmed your bed? It must have been quite a remarkable experience then – because you're obviously still valuing her word more than mine despite all evidences that she never really loved you as much as you loved her. Face the truth eventually, Commander, will you? Seska has never cared about you, she was just using you because you were so easily to manipulate. She'd use you again if she got the chance to do so, and she'd kill you without a second thought and sell all of us to her beloved Kazon a thousand times over. What do I have to do to earn your favor like she managed to do so easily, Chakotay? Share your bed like she did? No problem, I can do that, just go ahead and have your way with me!”

Tom stared at him with furious blue eyes, his face red with his rightful ire, and Chakotay knew that the younger man was just provoking him to make him admit that he'd been wrong. But he was too upset to think reasonably and keep his calm, and his long suppressed painful desire for the hated temptation Tom Paris had always been to him right from the first moment on broke free with violent force and without leaving him any chance to resist it any longer.

“Ah, now there's the real Tom Paris, the one you're always hiding from the world so carefully!” he snarled, almost jumping forward to invade his personal space and intrude on Tom's privacy like he'd been aching to do for a very long time.

“Is that what you want? Me having my way with you? I can do that, Paris! There's still enough Maquis left in me to teach you a few things!”

“Yeah, I bet you can, Commander!” The lieutenant didn't back away, and he didn't blink or flinch when Chakotay pushed him back against the wall next to the door and his head banged against the hard obstacle with a dull sound. Tom Paris was a few centimeters taller than him, but Chakotay was broader and he grabbed a fistful of blond strands to keep the other man in place and make him tilt his head to the side to crash their mouths together in a heated first encounter of angry lips.

Their kiss – the kiss Chakotay had been dreaming of for two years – was more a fight than a real kiss, a battle the Commander intended to win at all costs. Tom made a noise deep in his throat, something between a pained groan and a furious hiss, but he didn't try to push him away like Chakotay had expected him to do, and he opened his mouth for him when the smaller man demanded entrance to the territory he wanted to claim. He pushed his tongue inside, well aware that Tom could try to bite him, but the subject of his long denied desires just met his tongue with his own to play with it, and if the hard pressure against Chakotay's abdomen was anything to go by with, then the lieutenant had craved this for a rather long time as well.

His kiss was rough and Chakotay wasn't sure what was stronger, his desire to make Tom Paris lose control and finally reveal his true self to him – or more his wish to punish the handsome blond for all the pain and hurt he'd gone through because of him, for all the things Tom Eugene Paris was still standing for in Chakotay's opinion as the son and heir of Admiral Owen Paris.

They were snarling into each other's mouths as their kiss got more and more urgent, Chakotay's lips starting to become numb from the passionate onslaught. He tore at Paris' clothes to get them out of the way and his hands on bare skin and warm flesh, and the lieutenant's hands on his shoulders tightened their grip as if he was torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. Chakotay felt lightheaded because of the lack of air, but he wasn't ready yet to end their kiss and face Tom, to see the hate and anger on his handsome features.

Thomas Eugene Paris was too beautiful and desirable for his own good, and he was like a fever in his blood, the manifestation of Chakotay's darkest desires and instincts. It was so easy to blame and hate him, make him responsible for all evil that had happened in Chakotay's life over the last years – and even for the things that had happened before they'd even known each other – but the former Maquis captain knew that it wasn't that easy. The lieutenant was like a mirror to him, and Chakotay was afraid to look into that mirror and find out what he would see there.

In some way he'd actually been grateful when Kathryn Janeway had offered him the post as her first officer and the once so hated Starfleet uniform, putting it on had felt as though he could just undo, or at least forget, some of the things he'd done during his time with the Maquis.

Seeing that Tom had gotten the same chance as he'd been given and watching him sitting at the helm and flying the Voyager so skillfully was a constant reminder of his own past, a past Chakotay wanted to leave behind. That Crewman Michael Jonas – a former Maquis – had been the traitor who'd conspired with Seska and the Kazon and that Tom of all people had been the one revealing his identity didn't make things any easier for him to accept.

He growled and pushed his tongue deeper into Tom's mouth, conquering it with both anger and despair as he started to pull the younger man with him in the direction of the bedroom. The blond lieutenant didn't object, trapped in his own desire and painful need for release of the tension that had been growing between them since Paris had started to act like a complete dick and asshole towards him, ripping the fragile truce they'd established after Tom had rescued him from the broken stairs in the Ocampa tunnels into small pieces again.

The sound of tearing garments was like music in Chakotay's ringing ears, and he embraced the Maquis-part of himself he'd suppressed so carefully with open arms and let the darker half of his personality take over control of his actions.

Tom was naked by the time they reached his bed, while Chakotay was still fully dressed, but he met Chakotay's eyes with pride and defiance when he let them travel over Tom's body, taking in the sight of long limbs, pale skin and the visible proof of his weakness that his desire for his Commander must be for Paris.

“Are you going to just stand here and stare at me all night long, or are you actually man enough to fuck me through the mattress like you've always been doing in your dreams, Chakotay?” The blond challenged him when Chakotay didn't move, and he narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth to a snarl.

“You don't know anything about my dreams, Paris!” he retorted in a dangerously low voice, but his anger didn't seem to impress and frighten the other one in any way. Tom just let out a mocking laugh.

“Is that so? I bet I know more about them than you'd like me to do. Or did you really believe that I was missing how you were watching me right from the start? Seska might have possessed your heart, but I was the one you wanted to fuck until I'd scream so badly, so what are you waiting for? Tonight is your chance to let all of your dark dreams and fantasies come true.”

“You do like to play with fire, don't you, _Lieutenant?_ ” Chakotay stepped closer again and pushed him down onto the bed, and Tom obeyed without protest, lying down and looking up at him.

Tom just shrugged his shoulders and grinned up at him, the sort of smile he'd smile when he wanted to hide his true feelings and thoughts. Most people mistook it for a real and charming one, but Chakotay hated it almost more than he hated anything else about him and the role he was usually playing to keep the real Tom Paris a secret no one should ever find under the many layers of false pretenses.

“Perhaps?” he simply stated, “but please tell me, are you really planning to fuck me with your clothes still on? Is that some kind of kink of yours? Fucking your former traitorous Maquis crew-member while wearing a Starfleet uniform? I must admit that I didn't take you for that kind of person, but it could surely have some appeal...” his voice trailed off, and he held Chakotay's dark gaze when he moved his hand over his upper body in a lascivious way, dragging his short nails over the sculpted landscape of trained muscles and shimmering flesh. He reached for his nipples to pinch them into hardness, and his leaking erection twitched against his abs in response.

Chakotay's throat clenched with a hot wave of pure and raw want, and he gritted his teeth together and reached for the zipper of his uniform with trembling fingers.

“Lie still, don't move!” his voice sounded strange to his own ears, and Tom's sensitive lips, still red and swollen from their ardent kiss, curled into another knowing smile.

“Your wish is my command, Commander.” He stilled his hands, watching Chakotay undress with an unreadable expression, only his dilated pupils and his flaring nostrils giving his arousal and desire away. The air was heavy with sex, loaded with male pheromones that spoke of anger, fight and lust, and the Commander suppressed a groan of frustration when his clothes didn't come off as fast as he needed them to come off.

“You need some help with that?” Tom asked curiously when he struggled with the zipper of his trousers, and Chakotay cursed inwardly.

“No. Just prove to me that you're actually capable of obeying orders and lie still as I told you to do.”

Tom's eyes flashed with an emotion Chakotay took as another sign of his hate, but he remained silent and motionless, apparently willing to prove his ability to him that he could indeed follow orders if these orders were meeting his own wishes.

Chakotay finally ripped the last piece of clothing from his body and knelt on the edge of the bed to brace his hands against the pillow at each side of Tom's head and look down at him. Tom's eyes were dark, and his tongue darted out to lick over his lips in an unconscious invitation Chakotay had not the strength to resist. He bent down and captured the tempting mouth with his own once more, reveling in the softness and sweetness for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and pushed any ounce of tenderness he might have been willing to show to Paris back into the farthest corner of his heart.

Tenderness or love was not what Tom Paris wanted from him, and Chakotay would better not forget that again. The beautiful man Chakotay was so obsessed with might be willing to let himself be fucked, but that was all, and it was easy enough to convince himself that he didn't want love or any kind of tenderness from Tom either.

Chakotay took hold of Tom's wrists when the other man reached for him with a dangerous growl that vibrated in his chest, pushing them up over Tom's head to keep them trapped there on the pillow with his left hand, their kiss turning heated and angry again very quickly. They were both panting for breath when Chakotay drew back to get some air back into his lungs, and the sight of a small red droplet of blood where his teeth had grazed Tom's bottom lip made his blood boil and his heart pound in his chest. He shifted his weight until he knelt between Tom's spread legs and spit into his right hand to wet it before wrapping it around Tom's hard shaft.

Paris gasped out and bucked his hips up instinctively, but he dropped back and froze to complete stillness when Chakotay bit into his earlobe with a warning snarl. “Don't move, lieutenant. You'll regret it if I'll have to repeat myself one more time.”

“Yessss, _sir_.”

The sound of Tom's throaty voice sent a shiver of arousal down on his spine, and his own neglected cock was screaming for attention, the wet tip smearing drops of precome all over Tom's pale thigh when he leaned in to nibble and bite his way along Tom's prominent jawline. The beautiful dick in his fist twitched when he moved his hand up and down on it, soft silk over rock-hard steel, the evidence of Tom's desire for him coating the engorged red head and providing Chakotay with enough moisture to make it easy for him to stroke him without causing Tom any discomfort.

Tom's eyes were dark, the blue irises hardly visible any longer, and his face was flushed red, but he remained still and motionless except for his chest that was moving rapidly with his harsh breathing. He looked up at him with a strange expression on his handsome features, and the emotion clenching his heart together when he returned Tom's gaze felt too much like love for Chakotay to explore it further and accept it. Instead he focused his attention on the sensations the proud erection in his fingers aroused in him, the sense of power Tom's reaction to his caresses gave him. He'd dreamed of doing that to Tom Paris so many times, imagining how he would turn the blond into a panting and begging mess with his hand, and he felt drunk with lust and need, his only goal to make the stubborn man plead for more and scream his name.

Chakotay kept his eyes open when he pressed his mouth onto the swollen lips for another bruising kiss, watching Tom hungrily when he licked his way into his mouth to mirror the steady strokes of his hand with his tongue, thrusting deep and fast. He could feel Tom's fingers flex and clench by the way his trapped wrists moved against his palm and Tom's pulse was beating against his thumb, and he laughed breathlessly into the soft and warm cavern of Tom's mouth when the younger man grew harder and longer in his hand, so close to the point of no return that Tom couldn't suppress his shivers and the trembling of his limbs and his body any longer.

Chakotay drew back a little until their lips were barely touching anymore, their breaths intermingling and their eyes meeting each other again. He stilled his hand, now wet and slick with the proof of Tom's overwhelming desire and need for him, watching his panting prey with a predatory smile.

“Tell me that you need me, Paris. Tell me that you need me to make you come,” he purred, and Tom's nostril's flared with the pain of his unfulfilled need.

“And if I don't?” he ground out, but his cock jerked in Chakotay's hand, and he circled the throbbing slit with the tip of his thumb as his grin deepened, teasing more precome out of it. Tom bit down on his bottom lip, grazing Chakotay's lips with his teeth because they were still almost kissing, and the iron taste of Tom's blood tickled his tongue.

“Do it, Paris!” he growled, and a heavy shudder wrecked Tom's lean body.

“Is that an order, Commander?” he snapped, and Chakotay stroked along the thick pulsing vein on the underside of his cock with his thumb to get his point across.

“I'll make it be an order if I have to.”

Tom swallowed, fighting an inner battle that made his face contort and Chakotay's heart clench painfully again.

“Will you still fuck me afterwards?” Paris finally pressed out through his clenched teeth, and the relief washing over Chakotay almost made him sob.

“Yes,” was all he managed without revealing too much of his true emotions, and Tom drew in a shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob as well. He swallowed, his jaw working as if he was chewing on a bite he had serious problems with swallowing it down – which was probably the case, only in the literal way of speaking.

“Please... make me come, Chakotay,” the younger man choked out after a few more seconds that felt like an entire lifetime to him, struggling at every single word of his desperate plea, his voice strangled and hoarse with humiliation, and Chakotay was surprised that he didn't feel the triumph he'd actually expected to feel.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?” the dark-haired commander whispered soothingly, deepening their kiss once more. His eyes hurt because they had to focus on something too close to actually focus on, but there was no way that Chakotay would miss the sight of Tom Paris' face when he came from his hand for the first time after years of secret longing and desire. He kissed him with wanton abandon, claiming the blond's mouth with his tongue as he started to move his hand again, smearing the moisture all over the throbbing shaft and the pulsing tip of Tom's hardness. He circled the tip with his thumb again, squeezing the rock-hard length as he stroked him feverishly, and he told himself that the wetness that was suddenly stinging in his eyes just came from the straining and not from the emotions he'd bottled up deep inside his heart for far too long.

Tom moaned into his mouth, his fingers still clenching and moving, the fire burning in his veins too strong to keep his hips still as close as he was. Chakotay didn't chide him this time, and he pressed his own aching shaft against Tom's jerking thigh, desperate for some friction. Tom went rigid beneath him with the next up and down and finished circle of his thumb, poised at the edge of his orgasm for one or two seconds. Chakotay moved his hand down again, and then upwards, catching the first hot spray of milky pleasure that erupted from Tom's gorgeous cock when he literally exploded, his back arching into Chakotay's hard grip and a single hoarse cry ripping through his chest and his throat and escaping his bitten lips.

More shots followed the first eruption, and Chakotay caught them all and coated Tom's entire length with the evidence of his ecstasy as he stroked him through his high, relentless in his caresses until Tom went limp and fell back onto the mattress with another sob, his cock still half-hard and over-sensitive to Chakotay's touch now.

“Please, stop... too much...”

Chakotay swallowed the strangled plea with his lips as he moved his wet hand away from Tom's sated dick to push it between his trembling thighs instead, searching for the puckered rosebud that was still so tight but twitching eagerly when he rubbed over it with his fingertips. Tom was trembling with the aftershocks coursing through him, and his legs fell open in a silent invitation when Chakotay pushed one finger inside him to move it back and forth, stroking the hot and tender walls of Tom's passage. He drew back from Tom's swollen lips to regard him, and the sight of Tom's cock resting in the nest of blond hair on Tom's groin, now soft and sated and still glistening with the traces of his orgasm, made his own dick twitch and leak more precome.

The noble features of his prey were suffused with satisfaction and the lingering memory of his intense release, and Chakotay wanted nothing more than to see him come again, to relish the moment when Tom was all his and his alone. He pushed his finger deeper with each trust, unable to hold himself back for much longer, and he growled contentedly when he found that special spot that made Tom cry out and his hips jerk with a new wave of re-awakening desire.

“Ah, there we go, that's it,” he murmured, stroking over Tom's racing pulse on his wrist with his left thumb. Tom's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a small sigh.

“You don't need to go slow on me, Chakotay, I'm not that fragile.”

In some way he was, but Tom wouldn't admit his vulnerability, and Chakotay was tired of arguing. His cock was aching with the need for his own release, and if Tom wanted him to go faster, then he could do that. He pulled his finger out to insert two instead, brushing over the small bundle of nerves until the younger man started to meet his motions and his dick started to grow with newly revived interest in the forthcoming things and the promise of being fucked pretty soon.

Tom glanced at him from under his dark-blond lashes, and he stopped trying to free his hands from the tight grip of Chakotay's left hand. “There's lube in the drawer,” he said, motioning to his bedside table with a jerk of his head.

“You're not ready yet,” Chakotay bit out, and a small smile tugged at Tom's well-kissed mouth for a moment.

“I am. Besides, it will be much more intense for you if I'm still rather tight.” he challenged him, and Chakotay had to bite down on his lip to keep himself together.

“I don't wanna hurt you,” he objected, pulling a snort from the man lying beneath him.

“That's actually hard to believe. Besides, it's nothing I can't handle, don't worry. I want it to be intense, so stop pretending that you're considerate. It was the Maquis who wanted to teach me some things, not the always controlled Starfleet First Officer, remember?”

Anger rose hot in Chakotay's abdomen, anger about Tom still looking for a fight with him, even when he was lying naked and trapped beneath him, at his complete mercy and panting with barely hidden desire for him. The former Maquis pulled his fingers out and stared down at him.

“You're really trying your best to make it easy for people to hate you, Paris, aren't you?” he asked, his voice a low and angry hiss.

Tom shrugged, but there was a shadow ghosting over his flushed features for the length of an heartbeat. “Better getting hate than being ignored. At least you'll be remembered this way.”

Chakotay didn't have an answer to that sarcastic remark, and so he just bent down to kiss him hard, their tongues dueling for dominance while he pulled at the drawer without looking, fumbling for the bottle with the lubricant Tom had mentioned to be found there. He grabbed it and popped the lid open to coat his hard shaft with the cool liquid.

“Let me do that,” Tom whispered against his lips, adding a soft, “please!” to it when Chakotay hesitated. “I've been fantasizing to get my hands on you since I saw you in your Maquis pants for the first time.”

The admission came somewhat out of the blue, and it caught Chakotay off guard and tore at the walls he'd raised between Tom and himself a long time ago to protect his heart and his feelings. He leaned back onto his heels with a quiet nod because he didn't trust his voice, looking down to watch Tom take the lube and squeeze some of it onto his palm.

The liquid was cool, but Tom's hand was so hot when he touched his aching length, and Chakotay pulled air through his gritted teeth not to lose it right there and then. Tom's eyes were glued to his hand around Chakotay's thick and deep-red cock, so hard and aroused that it was painful.

“God, you're gorgeous, Chakotay, and you feel even better than I thought you would.” Tom stroked up and down to rub the lube all over his erection, and his expression reminded Chakotay of a child that was getting sweets for the first time in its life, rapturous and mesmerized with awe. He dug his nails in Tom's hips to keep the last shreds of his self-control, then he braced his hands against the mattress beside Tom's head again to steady himself. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, and Tom's tongue darted out of his mouth to catch one of the tiny droplets with a throaty chuckle.

“Can't wait for you to pound me into the mattress, Commander,” he purred, and there was a playful tone in his voice Chakotay couldn't resist. He shuffled closer to Tom's groin on his knees, positioning himself between the long and elegant legs and pushing forward until the head of his cock was pressing against his entrance. Tom's fingers were still wrapped around his shaft, guiding Chakotay where he craved to be so badly that it was driving him crazy. Tom hissed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment when the large intruder breached the tight ring muscle, but he didn't stop pushing Chakotay's cock into his body, his walls clenching down on Chakotay when the younger man struggled to adjust to his impressive size that was splitting him into two halves.

The sight of himself sinking into Tom's hot channel was almost more than Chakotay could bear, but he couldn't avert his eyes either, the strong wave of possessiveness that washed over him making him feel dizzy. He forced himself to go slow and keep his hips still to give Tom the time he needed, and when the blond relaxed with a small sigh, he buried himself to the hilt in the tempting heat of Tom's yielding body. He grabbed the pillow with both hands because he needed something to hold on to when Tom wrapped his long legs around his back, urging him on to move.

“Fuck me, Commander. Show me that you haven't forgotten how it feels to be a Maquis!” Tom demanded in such a husky voice that it made him be incredibly jealous of any other lover the beautiful blond had had before him. He wanted to be the only lover Tom would remember for the rest of his life, the only lover he would ever have again.

“Are you sure that you're ready for that?” he growled, and Tom actually managed to roll his eyes at him.

“Chakotay, for what it's worth, stop talking and start fucking me already, will you?!”

He didn't need to be told that twice, and he growled again, pulling back and shoving himself back into Tom's body, setting up a hard and fast punishing rhythm. His blood was like liquid fire that was running through his veins, and his vision blurred, all of his attention focused on the painful need in his groin. He was so hard and so desperate to come that he couldn't have stopped, even not if his life depended on it.

Tom met his thrusts with the same urgency and wanton abandon, his cock growing back to full hardness when the thick head of Chakotay's cock brushed over his prostate with every push in, bouncing between their bodies and craning its head to rub against Chakotay's sweaty abs. Tom grabbed his forearms for a better hold, but Chakotay shifted his weight to take his wrists and pin his hands on the pillow over his head again, their faces only inches apart when he snaked his right hand between their connected bodies to pinch Tom's nipples.

“Tell me, Paris, has anyone ever fucked you that good that you came from their fucking alone – without needing their hands on your pretty dick? Have they ever fucked you through the mattress until you had to bite your lips not to scream their names? Have they ever made you come from their fucking alone after you'd already come for them for a first time? Tell me, have you ever had a lover who was able to do that to you?”

Tom shivered, his eyes black rounds as he stared up at him, and Chakotay knew that he would never forget Tom's face, even not in hundred years from now on, the tousled blond strands dark with sweat where they were clinging to his forehead, his cheeks burning pink and his lips red from his kisses. It was obvious that Tom's nipples were pretty sensitive and erogenous spots, hard knobs from Chakotay's rough ministration, and each time he pinched one of them, Tom's cock jerked forcefully, leaking against his abs and growing harder. His walls were pulsing erratically with his approaching orgasm, and Chakotay changed the angle once more to drive deeper and faster into him, bending down so Tom had to raise his ass from the mattress, his hole cramping around Chakotay's hard dick to swallow it even deeper.

“Tell me, has anyone ever made you come like that?” he demanded again, and Tom's Adam's apple moved when he swallowed desperately, his body shaking in the grip of his arousal.

“No, Commander, you'd be the first one. Just prove to me that you are the one who can do that and make me come without touching my dick.”

“You're already so close, almost there, Tom, I can feel that.” Chakotay bared his teeth to a triumphant grin, squeezing his abused left nipple again, and when he pushed his tongue into Tom's ear with the next deep thrust Tom arched violently and threw his head back on the pillow with a strangled shout that could actually be Chakotay's name. Hot spurts of ecstasy shot between their bodies, coating their stomachs and pushing him over the edge of his own orgasm. Tom's walls cramped around him, milking his own release from him, and Chakotay let go of his self-control and surrendered himself to the hot jolts of pleasure that were capturing his body and making his vision go white with their intensity.

His cock pumped his satisfaction deep into Tom's shaking body, painting his walls with his claim until he thought that he would black out and he could hardly keep himself upright enough in order not to crush the other man.

Tom sank back with a groan, and Chakotay buried his face in the warm crook between his neck and his shoulder, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down and his lungs to breathe in enough air. Soft shivers were running through Tom's limp body beneath him, and Chakotay wanted to wrap him into his arms and stroke him to sleep, but this was not what he'd come here for, not what Tom wanted from him.

Instead he rolled onto his back after a few minutes, his soft cock slipping out of the heavenly warmth that had enclosed it so wonderfully. Tom covered his eyes with his arm to hide his face from him, the silence between them loaded with too many unspoken feelings and the hurt of two years of mistrust, anger and betrayal.

“Tom?” Chakotay turned his head to look at him, but Paris shook his head, his elbow still blocking Chakotay's view.

“You should go now, Commander. You've gotten what you wanted, there's nothing left to say.”

“Do you really think so, Tom?”

There was another short moment of silence, and something inside Chakotay broke when Tom eventually nodded his head. “Yes, I do, Commander.”

“Alright, lieutenant.” Chakotay got up from the bed, his bones heavy and aching with a fatigue as if he'd been up for three days and fought against an entire armada of Cardassian ships.

Tom lay there motionless like a marble statue while he dressed again, his pale skin still glowing pink from the passion they'd just shared. He was so beautiful and looked so lonely and lost that Chakotay felt like choking on the lump in his throat. He made his way to the door, where he turned around one last time, but Tom still hadn't moved, his arm hiding his face from his commander.

“Good night... Tom,” Chakotay said, and he could see Tom's other hand balling into a tight fist on the mattress.

“Good night, Commander,” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible, and Chakotay pressed the button to open the door and walked out of the lieutenant's quarters with a stern face, the sight of the motionless and miserable figure on the crumpled sheets following him until he finally fell asleep in his own cold and lonely bed hours later. Tom's scent was still all over him and filling his nose, blue eyes filled with so much hurt haunting him in his restless slumber and colorful dreams.

_'I've just been following orders, Commander!'_ the Tom in his dreams told him, and Chakotay knew that in the end, they were all just following orders, orders that ruled all of their lives -whether they were Starfleet or Maquis. They were always all the same, and nothing would ever change that.


End file.
